


A Sinner, A Saint, A Sunflower

by bravest_person_in_Wonderland



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Coffeeshop AU, Gen, all my ships are in this one because it's an AU hehe, also condensed milk and if you understand that reference you have my respect, barista!Thirteen, most everybody else is just cameos/minor appearances, probably will add more character tags as i go?, yes Grace is alive because AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23390704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravest_person_in_Wonderland/pseuds/bravest_person_in_Wonderland
Summary: Jodie Smith is an enigmatic barista at a London coffeeshop. No one can pin her down, but everyone knows she has a good heart. Everyone is a story, aren't they?on hiatus and I feel really bad for that but I'm kinda stuck with it, please bear with me
Relationships: Eighth Doctor/Charley Pollard, Eleventh Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Twelfth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a [ playlist on Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/29JIyv9ttxveBOvvLOOeIh?si=wOx7_okLSF6hRrfcWKnLqA) that's partially based on this WIP, if anyone wanted to check it out! :D

London’s chill fog did its best, but the warmth of Time & Space Coffeehouse always won out. Even on the wettest, greyest days there was a cosiness to the corner it sat tucked into, and a few curious souls never failed to wander in looking for a cuppa or just a place to dry off. 

Upon entering the brownstone shop, one’s eye would be inevitably drawn to the boldly blue-painted accent wall and counter, the warm lighting giving a sense that the shop itself was alive. Behind the counter, dressed in an array of eclectic fashion (if you wish to call it that), usually stood a smallish blonde woman, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. 

Many patrons tried to describe Jodie Smith over time. An enigma, some said. A mystery. Her optimism, no one ever tried to deny. She was many things at many times; a sinner, a saint, a sunflower. She had a tendency to meddle, which often caused trouble but mostly turned out alright. She was opinionated and outspoken. Her smile could melt the coldest heart. She laughed hard and ran fast and the closest anyone came to defining her was in one word: Kindness.  
She was far from perfect, as all of us are. But what mattered is that she tried. 

The bells above the door jingled and Jodie looked up from where she was fiddling with an espresso machine that was acting up. She grinned her big grin and the petite brunette smiled back. She wiped her hands on her apron. “What’ll I get you?” She asked, her thick Yorkshire accent adding to her charm. 

“Just the usual,” the brunette replied. Jodie didn’t know many of her customers’ names, but she had her own names for a few of the repeat visitors. This was the Teacher, the girl she always associated with leaves and determination and who was in love with the Bowtie man. Sometimes the pair came in together – the Bowtie man all trussed up classy even though he was one of the most utterly uncoordinated people Jodie had ever seen. All she knew was that he couldn’t keep his hands off the Teacher and that the way the two looked at each other was deeper than just friendship. 

As she handed over the Teacher’s drink, a few more customers trickled in off the street to pick up their afternoon coffee. Most of them she knew and was able to anticipate their orders: a flat white for the Wolf girl, who had a toddler and often came in slightly harried-looking though cheerful, the Captain (short for “the Captain of Innuendo”), who would flirt with quite literally anyone within a six-foot radius of himself and always took his coffee black, and Free Bird with her penchant for creamy chais and striped clothing. 

A group entered that Jodie didn’t recognise, an older couple and a young man and woman. Three of them went over to a table in the corner, while the tall, dark young man came over and rattled off an obviously rehearsed list of orders. When Jodie brought all four drinks over to the counter, he looked at the cups and blinked in confusion.

The younger woman bounded over, tossing a braided pigtail over her shoulder with a smile. “Here, Ryan. You get yours and mine, I have Graham’s and Grace’s.” Jodie could see a look of relief pass over the young man – Ryan’s – face as he picked up the two drinks and tossed a “thank you” over his shoulder, following the braid girl to the table in the corner.  
The post-workday rush swelled and then faded, previously mentioned curious souls now occupying tables around the shop, and Jodie took a moment to observe. 

The Wolf girl was sitting across from her mother, a boisterous woman with a big mouth, obligingly nodded as the slightly peaked woman offered, presumably, the newest piece of juicy gossip. 

Bowtie had arrived and was giving the Teacher that sweet smile he always did, before reaching out and momentarily cupping her face in his hand in response to something she’d said. Jodie smiled herself upon seeing the Teacher all but melt into his touch. 

The group from earlier was still there at the corner table. They acted like family. The older two – Graham and Grace? – were obviously married, the woman resting her hand on the man’s leg. Braid Girl and Ryan, Jodie couldn’t quite pin down. Ryan seemed at home with the older woman, who Jodie was already mentally calling “Nana,” and was joking around with the older man, but she couldn’t tell if Braid Girl was his sister, or just a friend, or not just a friend. 

She hoped, when she finally saw the group head for the door, that they would be back. Intriguing, them.

Eventually it was closing time and everyone had left. Jodie loved being at the shop after hours, doing the work on machines that she couldn’t with people around, no sound but the nighttime London street noises… Yes, this was her home, more than her flat around the block, more even than Arcadia Street was. She shook thoughts of her childhood home out of her mind as she shut the back of the machine she’d been repairing earlier. Placing it back in its usual place, she slipped out of her apron and checked that everything was locked. 

“Well, old girl, that’s another day.” Jodie had worked in this old brick building for so long that she’d begun to wonder if that sense of alive-ness so many customers commented on wasn’t a reality. Either way, she talked to the building. The old pipes groaned, one more thing that made the Time & Space Coffeeshop itself and, to Jodie, one more sign of home. She tipped her head to the shop as she began to walk away, feeling almost as if the place could have smiled back at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't take credit for the "Captain of Innuendo" joke, it was just something I saw in another fanfic... so if the author of that Rose/TenToo fic with the Mr. Man books is on here... thanks for that great phrase!  
> \----------  
> Edit 5/5/2020: I found the fic again, SO- credit for the "Captain of Innuendo" joke goes to AO3 user Lizanne_5869 (apologies, I can't figure out how to do hyperlinks o_o)


	2. Chapter 2

London’s chill fog did its best, but the determination of one Yasmin Khan always won out. Well… Determination and a cappuccino, that is. Another overcast day in February found her on a comparatively quiet corner wishing she had worn that windbreaker after all. 

She slipped in the door of the first coffeeshop she saw, grateful for the initial burst of warmer air. This was that odd little place she had come by with Ryan, Graham, and Grace a while ago. She recognised the bright blue wall and the blonde woman behind the counter. 

“Hallo again!” The woman, whose nametag read “Jodie,” greeted as Yaz approached the counter. 

Again? “I’ve only been in here once,” she said bemusedly after ordering her capp. 

“Yeah,” Jodie replied, her back to Yaz. “I remember. Came in with that older couple and your awkward friend.” 

Yaz could’ve sworn she heard Jodie mutter something about “braid girl,” and blinked quizzically. “Yeah, that’s right. How do you even remember that?” 

“I remember faces.” Jodie handed her the drink with a smile. Something in this woman’s eyes unnerved Yaz. There was a depth and wisdom there that intrigued her, really. She took the cup and gave Jodie an uncertain smile in return. 

She turned to leave, but something made her stop. She stepped back to the counter. “Jodie.” 

“Yeah?” the barista tilted her head curiously. Almost like a cat, Yaz thought.

“I’m Yaz.” 

Yaz. Braid Girl was Yaz. Brilliant name, that. Jodie repressed a bubbling laugh as the dark-haired girl left. This was the first time in years someone had told her their name. For some reason, that seemed special, something to respect. Names had power, that she knew. 

Her eyes roved around the shop once more, a deep caring for each and every customer in her heart. 

Wolf girl was there again, this time with her husband. Jodie called him Hairgel and never got tired of seeing the couple together; from what she had seen they would go to any length for one another. The power of love, she supposed. 

The Romantic and his sassy blonde Adventuress – those two were nearly always holding hands. They contrasted each other wonderfully, his romanticism and forgetfulness against her decidedly sensible and direct way. Jodie had liked the Adventuress form the first day she’d come in, ordering her drink very specifically- “Condensed milk, if you will.”

A leggy woman with long red hair, the Writer, sat with her laptop open and her eyes somewhat glazed from staring at it. Jodie watched as she shook her head and swore in a Scottish accent, then tapped the “delete” key repeatedly. 

Jodie stepped around the counter with a carafe and waved – somewhat awkwardly, arms were so difficult sometimes – to get her attention. “Fill-up?” 

The Writer nodded. “Thanks.” She fixed Jodie with her piercing hazel eyes. “You’re a sunflower, you know that?” 

“Sometimes.” Many things, many times. Sinner, saint, sunflower – sometimes all of these, sometimes none. She wasn’t quite sure of who or what she really was at the core. She was just- there. Always. 

“Sometimes a sunflower,” she murmured to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter... a longer one will be coming in the next few days, I promise! 
> 
> Bigadiers: yes, that was a Scherzo reference and yes, it was absolutely necessary. XD So was the reference to Chimes.


	3. Chapter 3

London’s chill fog did its best, and for some people it won out. The sun was on its way down, the fact of which didn’t help with today’s weather. Odd, Jodie thought, it had just been so sunny all week, and now it was back to grey and clouds and rain.

Most of the coffeeshop’s patrons had left already, only a handful remaining in the soft seats and little tables, studying, working, just relaxing. This was what Time & Space was here for, Jodie thought. A safe place. And just as the thought formed in her mind, the bells rang once again.

The man who walked in was worn, Jodie saw that in an instant. He had prominent ears and wore a too-big leather jacket and his eyes were trying to hide a darkness that was taking him over. It looked to Jodie as if he had stopped in simply to get out of the rain. Silently, he sat in the corner alone.

Jodie walked over to where the man sat. “Can I getcha anything?” She asked, her head cocked to one side. “Some company, maybe? A listening ear?”

“Don’t you have to work?” He asked, seemingly genuine. He had a northern accent similar to Jodie’s.

“Nah, it’s nearly closing anyway.” Jodie smiled. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said quickly as he moved as if to leave. “It’s fine. You look like you’ve got a story to you.”

The man with big ears looked at her for a moment, brow furrowed with vague suspicion. “It’s not stuff most people want to hear,” his tone was a warning, giving her an opportunity to back out of the conversation.

“It takes a lot to bother me, friend.”

“Well-“ Ears shrugged. “Just been a weird day, I suppose. You know, anniversaries are like that. Memories…”

“Memories of what? If you don’t mind me asking.” Jodie kept her eyes trained on him, giving her full attention.

“War.” Tiredly, he said it. “Been enough years I should-“

“Don’t say that,” Jodie cut him off. “Don’t say you should be over it. There are some things- some things you don’t get over.” There was an intensity to her, just now, that would have frightened many of those who frequented the shop. But the man with big ears, the man who’d killed, knew.

Jodie Smith was more like him than anyone knew. Her brown eyes held the same darkness she’d seen him trying to hide, her soul the same pain. When she was alone, she was tired. Worn. Many things at many times; a sinner, a saint, a sunflower… a storm. A slowly oncoming storm that never broke, just held and held…

…and held. She held so much back, more than anyone could ever understand.

“You don’t get over it,” she repeated, “And that’s okay.” A flicker of a smile, of hope, sparked on her face, enough to prompt the Ears man to ask, “Then what-?”

“What do you do?” a half smile crossed her lips, though her eyes were sad. “All that pain, and shame, and yeah- even fear- you remember it. And it’ll hurt, yeah. And you say this -- no one else will ever have to live like this. No one else will ever have to feel this pain. Not on my watch. And you run.”

Now something lit in the man’s eyes, similarly to how it had in Jodie’s moments before. It was a tiny ember of hope, barely there, small enough that anyone else would’ve likely missed it. But Jodie saw. Jodie knew. “Run?”

She nodded. “Until you’re out from under the shadow.”

He fell silent for several minutes. Jodie stayed, waiting. There was something more he would say or ask, she could sense that. Then-

“Fear. You mentioned fear.”

“Didn’t anybody ever tell you? Fear is a superpower. Fear can make you faster and cleverer and stronger. The war might be over now, your part in it at least, but you’re afraid. It comes through in your voice, to certain people, you know.” Here she paused, looked into his eyes, gave another small smile. “And you know what? You probably will always be afraid. But that’s okay, because if you’re very wise and strong, fear doesn’t have to make you cruel or cowardly. Fear can make you kind.” She said this last sentence with such force, rocking forward slightly. “It doesn’t matter if there’s nothing under the bed or in the dark so long as you know it’s okay to be afraid of it. So listen.” Her slight smile, the youthful passion of a moment before vanished.

Back was the dark intensity she had shown earlier, and it spoke to the man with the big ears. He too could fluctuate between boyish energy and the darkness hidden in his chest.

She continued, this in that darker, solemn tone. “If you listen to anything else, listen to this. You’re always goin’na be afraid, even if you learn to hide it. Fear is like a companion, a constant companion, it’s always there. But that’s okay! Cos…” She paused and bit her lip, searching for words. “Fear can bring us together. Fear can bring you home. Trust me, I know. Fear, it- it makes companions of us all.”

“Like you and me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m afraid too. And if I wasn’t, would we be sittin’ here talking like this?”

He shook his head, a small smile of his own hinted at the corner of his mouth. “I better be going,” he said, standing up. Jodie rose with him.

“Let me getcha a cuppa for the road,” she said brightly, “On the house.” She whipped up a warm cup of tea, writing on the side of the paper cup: _Laugh hard. Run fast. Be kind._ She handed it to him with a grin.

Before the Ears man let the door close behind him, he turned back and looked at Jodie once more. “Thank you,” he said, and she knew he meant for more than the tea, “You were fantastic.” This time his smile came out full and bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full credit goes to the writers of "The Zygon Inversion," "The Rings of Akhaten," and "Listen," for much of the dialogue in this chapter. I mainly pulled from episode transcriptions and tweaked a few things to fit the context better.


End file.
